Life Ain't Always Beautiful
by Colonel Hawkeye
Summary: All she wanted was respect, but she wasn't going to find it in a dimly lit bar full of scantily clad women who danced for pay. At least, she had never expected to find it there. Sometimes it pays to know the right people. And then the pieces fall into place. [AU. Summary sucks. Read and Review. M for sexual themes.]


**Life Ain't Always Beautiful**

_Happiness has its own way of taking its sweet time._

"Hawkeye, you're on in an hour." The brunette stepped into the dressing room, turning to the blonde in question. Riza was fiddling with her hair in the mirror, trying to get it to look right. The brunette sat beside her friend, taking a brush off the dresser, and running it through the blonde's hair. "You're messing with your hair, but there's really no need for it."

"Thanks, Cat, but I think you're wrong." The blonde murmured under her breath, letting her counterpart do her hair. She moved her attention elsewhere, pushing a dangly hoop earring into her ear, watching it dance with her movements. "Either way, we're selling an image and…well, _I don't have that image._"

"Yeah, because you're not a slut. Well, I mean…you kind of are, but you're a _classy_ slut." Catalina smirked and started to tie the blonde's hair up in a bun. Riza often went for the sexy librarian look. It seemed to be the thing guys loved in East City, but rarely she would change up her routine and do something else. "Are we going for the classy lady today?"

Hawkeye nodded and watched as her friend fixed her hair. Her hand reached to dig around the dresser for a makeup brush, preparing to apply her makeup. "Catalina, what do you think we would be doing if we weren't here? I mean, if…we weren't selling ourselves for money. Do you think we could do something..._different_?"

"Well, we have the ability to do anything we want; at least Christine says so. So why are we here, working in this place? Why not get off our asses and do something worth doing?" Cat gently pulled a few strands of stray hair from her shoulder, braiding them, and twisting them up around the bun. "Besides, you're doing this for the military."

"Well, sort of." She frowned a bit and looked over at the clock. It usually took her about an hour to get all ready for the routine, but Catalina was usually the one who helped her prepare. Riza hated wearing makeup, it was a peeve of hers, but she did it for the money. Her corset was held up temporarily by straps, awaiting attention. Hawkeye thumbed behind her back. Cat, taking the hint, started to lace up the corset. The brunette yanked the strings tight, causing the blonde in the mirror to wince. "Tighter, Cat. You know better."

Catalina nodded and started to go through the strings individually, pulling them tighter. "Better?"

"Better," Hawkeye nearly wheezed at the idea. The men wanted to see everything that their money would pay for, and Christine made sure to treat her girls very well. If a man were to ever refer to one of her girls as a _whore_, they were often met with a boot to the arse out the door. The thought always amused her, but she'd never seen Christine actually _kick _a man out the door, most left willingly. Then there were the ones who paid to see nudity, but only a few girls did that; Candy, Lola…girls that weren't Riza and Rebecca. Oddly enough, most of the men paid to see Rebecca and Riza, despite them not removing all of their clothes. "Looks like I have about ten minutes. I should find the rest of my outfit."

Rebecca twirled on the chair, looking to see the outfit already laid out on the boudoir for her. "Looks like Christine's got you covered. Did she tell you what the occasion was today?"

"Yeah, some military official's going off to fight in Ishval and she wanted us to give him a _going away party _as it were. Kind of her way of rallying the troops, you know? I think it's pointless," She puckered her lips and applied the lipstick with a brush. "But, I guess we do what she says since they pay her and she pays us."

Catalina picked up the outfit and stared at it, whistling softly to herself. "Well, now this is a get up I could get behind. Just imagine if _all _the females in the military wore this number."

Riza snatched the garments from the other girl's hands and ran her hand down the length of the skimpy little bottom skirt she had to wear. "Well, I kind of like this."

"I guess we'll see how the boy's like it, won't we?"

* * *

The natives were getting restless and Christine was starting to worry that her star had chickened out. It wasn't like Hawkeye to bail on a show, especially when the money was this good. The soft jazz music echoed through the establishment that had been done up in navy blue and silver to honor the men in question. She had taken extra care to make sure not to mention troop names, just in case if men outside this particular unit showed up.

She checked her watch again, and wiped off the bar for the third time. One of the uniforms came over and sat across from the bar, watching Christine wipe the bar off. "Tough crowd tonight, huh?"

"And just what are you doing in here, Roy?" She smirked and threw the towel over her shoulder. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere preparing for war?"

"Probably. But you know me." He smiled at his mother, but his eyes showed a different story. He hadn't been sleeping well and he looked haggard. "Can I get a scotch?"

She shook her head. "You're too young for that, Roy-Boy. Try something else."

"Mom, I'm going to war for Christ sake, can I _please _just have something to forget about that for a moment?" He sighed and rested his hands on her clean bar, fidgeting with his fingers. The idea of war scared him, honestly, and he wasn't sure how he would deal without anyone to write to. He had his foster mother, sure, but it wasn't the same as having a lover like Maes did. "Can you make an exception just this one time?"

The elder, manly looking woman gave a slight nod as she went to get a bottle and snifter off the back where the mirror was. "Since when did you start drinking scotch?" It wasn't much of a secret that she wasn't around. She bailed him out of trouble, but he did most of his own work without her consent. It wasn't something she hated; he was old enough to live by himself. Pouring in some ice, she set it in front of her son and dumped the amber liquid into the cup. "You know, turning to alcohol isn't like you at all. You should find a nice girl to distract yourself with."

"All the _nice girls _are taken, mom. But thanks for the concern for my wellbeing."

There was an upbeat swing/jazz fusion that began to echo off the walls of the establishment. Suddenly, all of the men turned their attention towards the stage. Following in the tune of the song, and swaying her hips as she moved carefully, Riza made her way to center stage.

She was wearing the number Christine had chosen. It was wearing a dress that was in a dark color, the color of the uniforms. Her corset barely peeked through the top of the skirt with a bikini tied behind it, tied tight and topped with a pair of pearls. Her arms had a pair of gloves that reached her elbow and there was a flower in her hair; courtesy of Catalina. As the eyes gazed further down, it was obvious that the skirt was cut straight up the right thigh, where a garter and empty gun holster were strapped. She was wearing fishnet stockings and a pair of combat boots, just to complete the look. It was a military crowd, it only made sense that they got what they came for. And who didn't want to see a woman in a military uniform?

The soft seductive sound of jazz music wafted through the establishment. There were slight undertones of a drum, allowing her to count her moves and know when to do her next move. But while the music was still starting, she took her spot on the center stage, and threw a wink and a kiss at the front row.

At first, her hands went into the air, twinkling her fingers a bit before trailing sensuously down her body. She started at her arms, acting as if it was cold, and moved slowly down her arms to her breasts, hips, and knees. When she hit her knees, she let her hands fall and her hip shake just a bit.

Her hands trailed yet again to her leg, where she landed one hand on her hip. She teased a bit by pulling a bit at the fabric of the skirt, allowing the audience to see what was under it, but she didn't remove it yet. Instead she grabbed both sides just slightly and wiggled around. Her hands swayed about as if she was a hula dancer, her booty wiggling to the music.

She moved her hands back down to the skirt, unzipping the side. It was a slow process, which was how it was meant to be. She danced backwards, her hands fumbling with the zipper as if she couldn't find it. Finally she pulled it down slowly and let the skirt come loose. It was then revealed that she was wearing a pair of hipster bikinis in the same color of the dress, with silver metallic fringes on it that swayed with her every movement.

She continued to move with the music, making erratic movements that allowed her breasts and butt to jiggle, which was honestly what the men came for. Her hand reached up behind her back, tugging at the string of her corset. In just a few moments, she would be undoing all of Catalina's hard work, but hopefully the payout would be well worth it. Loosening all the strings in the back and slowly unclasping each section in the front, she turned her back to the audience.

Normally, this would be the part in her routine when she would tease the men for a while by jumping around and making moves that allowed for jiggling like they wanted. Instead, she wiggled her butt slowly to the music, pretending to be shy about removing the corset. She had a bra under it that matched the bottoms, but the routine was to be shy. She slowly slid the corset down the length of her body, and then turned to the audience again.

She swayed with the music some more, finally sitting on a chair provided for her. Her fingertips barely grazed her leg as she moved them down to her ankles, then lifted one leg to untie the boot and let it fall on the stage. She then moved her hands back up the length of her leg, sliding a finger sensually under the garter and unclipping it. She moved her fingers about the material before slowly sliding it down the length of her leg, and then repeated the process for the other leg.

"Does anyone else in here think it's getting far too hot for all these clothes?" She called over the music. The whooping and hollering was enough of an answer for her. Turning her hand on the back, she grazed her knuckles down her arm and slowly started to remove the glove on her left hand. She twirled it about before tossing it into the crowd. She brought the right hand to her lip and made it appear as though she was being coy again, this time tugging the glove off with her teeth and tossing it into the crowd.

The music started to slow and she knew it was going to end very shortly, so she had to find a crowd pleaser before it did. Her hands reached behind her neck and she began to untie the bikini top, letting the straps fall to her sides, but the top didn't fall off. Wiggling around, she let the men imagine what would happen next. Then she reached up and tugged her hair down, tossing her head back and forth so it would splay out like it was supposed to.

The music finally came to a slow and she put her hand over her breasts to hold the bra on, then bowed to the crowd and danced off stage, wiggling her hips the whole time.

Roy dropped his drink. "Who the hell was that?"

"That?" Christine gave her son a pat on the back. "That's what's going to take your mind off going to war."

Roy couldn't ignore his mother's logic. After all, he was still left rather speechless by the bar; his hand barely even recognizing that it was recently holding a glass. No, he had to know a name. Even if they never saw each other again, he wanted to know the name of the girl who would forever haunt his dreams. At least he could give a name to the girl he'd be marrying one day. "Mom, what is her name?"

"I think you should ask her that," Christine smirked, cleaning up the mess he'd made when the glass shattered on the bar. "She leaves around eleven, walks home every night. I'll make sure to stop her before she goes so you can chat. Don't be surprised if she comes off as cold towards you. Most men are asking for more nefarious reasons."

"Do you honestly think—"

"No," She cut him off with a mother's grin. "But that's why I'm willing to bite the bullet and do this for you. Now, enjoy your last day with your friends before that paralyzing thought comes back to mind."

"You said she leaves at eleven. It's only nine. What does she do until then?" He checked his pocket watch, hoping his mother would say _another routine_.

"She cleans up the spills you make when you drop your drinks."

It was then that the blonde came rushing towards the bar, dressed in what appeared to be a one-piece bathing suit that had a fringy skirt on it. Her hair was tied up again, but this time in a less elaborate manner. She smiled to Christine and sat on the bar before swinging her legs over and dropping on the other side. "Did I do well?"

"Sweetheart, you're always a crowd pleaser." Christine replied. Seizing the opportunity, instead of making him wait until she left, Christine looked to her son. "Have you met my son? He's a major in the military."

"A major!" Riza seemed taken aback by this, most likely because of his young appearance. "You can't be more than eighteen."

"Says the girl with the body of a goddess." Mentally he kicked himself for that remark. "I mean, you're very mature for your age." Damnit! "How old are you?"

"It's alright to be nervous the first time you meet me, but I'm honestly nothing to get nervous over. There are plenty of other women who are far better than me at this. I'm just learning." She wiggled her hips and earned a cheer from the men at the bar. "See? Still pretty new to me."

"I see you're avoiding the question." He remarked casually.

A small smile graced the woman's features as she moved to take an order from the other side of the bar. When she finished up, she came back to Roy, leaning her elbows on the mahogany countertop, her breasts barely peeking through her top. "A wise woman never reveals her age, but lets a man guess."

"Sixteen."

"That's illegal." Riza replied with a smile, turning her back to grab a bottle off the bar. "I would be almost willing to bet we're the same age."

"There's no way you're eighteen and live alone."

"You're eighteen and live at the barracks, so why shouldn't I live alone?" Pouring herself a glass of whiskey, she set the bottle under the bar and looked to him again, honey eyes gazing at his dark blue ones. So worried; so wrought with life. "My dad died about a year ago. I was desperate for work, so your mother hired me. She told me I could work here as long as I needed to, but she hoped that one day I would kick my feet off the ground and find something a little more…_reputable._"

"I can't think of anything more reputable than burlesque dancing." Roy replied, noting her drink of choice. "You don't think you get respect doing this?"

"They leer at me. You did, too, before you realized I was human like you. For them, I'm an unobtainable object – but that's not to say they haven't tried. And I must warn you that the holster may be empty during the show, but it's not when I'm here." She gave a knowing nod and downed the whiskey in one shot. "Besides, Mr. Major, it's not very reputable to be in an establishment like this, so who are you to judge?"

"No judgment." He put his hands up in defense. "Just…eying the pretties I can never have."

Her expression changed to that of one who might be mourning. A somber glow crossed her eyes, her hair falling in her face as she looked to the table. "You're one of the men deploying; of course. I was supposed to make sure not to mention it, but it's painfully obvious. Aren't you scared?"

"Of course I'm scared. I'd be stupid not to be." He gently touched a hand under her chin and brought her face up so he could look in her eyes. "A pretty girl like you isn't allowed to be upset over something so stupid. This is our war, and I'll be sure to come home. I wouldn't dare leave my mother behind, she doesn't take no for an answer."

Riza gave a small smile and started to clean under the bar. It was hard to believe an hour had already passed and it was nearly closing time. Christine announced last call just as Roy was getting up to leave with his unit. "Well, you should be going, son."

"Yeah. I guess I should." The ebony haired man slid off the bar stool and gave a curt nod to the blonde. "It was nice meeting you. Here's hoping it isn't the last time."

Christine smiled softly and gathered up the spent cups, cleaning and drying them. "Go home, Hawkeye. You had a busy day today."

"I can't just leave you with clean up, that would be rude of me. My father taught me better." She gave a whimsical sigh. "He's a cutie."

"Your father?"

"No! Heaven's no! Your son." She stammered a bit, her cheeks suddenly taking on a new shade of red. "He's…respectable, I mean…well, pretty. I mean…well, he's handsome."

"You like him."

She rubbed her hands together. "A little bit, yes."

"I can tell you which barracks he's in if you'd like to see him off." Christine gave a wink.

Her eyes widened. "I'm not a _whore_." Then a pause. "…which one?"

* * *

Roy sat outside the barracks, foot propped against the wall, a cigarette in his mouth. Hughes had been going on about his girlfriend for the third time that night, something about how she would never respect a woman who stripped in her spare time. Roy made no comment, letting the nicotine fill his lungs. He leaned against the railing of their barracks, watching the figures in the distance. Letting out the smoke he'd been holding in, he couldn't help but notice a lone figure walking down his road with a paper in her hand.

For a moment, he thought she was lost. It was very possible she was. He kept his eyes on her, while she walked up and down the street. Apparently she was very lost. She would stop, stare at the doors of the barracks, shake her head, and continue on. A man came from one of the dorms. Roy figured he could let his guard down because the soldier was just asking if she needed help. She put her arms up and waved them about slightly, shaking her head as if to say no. Roy tensed when the soldier grabbed her wrists and pinned her to a wall.

He kept his eyes on her, watching the scene play out. She turned her head away from the man in question, closing her eyes tightly. He had come in to do something that she couldn't honestly say when she heard a thud and a crunching noise. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect a damn lady?"

She turned slightly to see her attacker on the ground, rubbing his now broken nose.

Roy was standing over him, fists clenched, teeth gritted. The comment took her off guard _a damn lady_? Well, it was far better than the word the man whispered in her ear before being taken out by a comrade. "_She's just a whore," _her captor yelled in his own defense. Roy knelt down beside the man, grabbing him by the collar. "What she does in that building is none of our concern. When she's outside that building _you will call her a lady_." He shoved the man away, letting him fall ass first in the dirt. "And if I hear you say otherwise again, it's going to be a lot more than your nose I break."

She started to tremble slightly, so Roy removed his jacket and put it over her shoulders. "I'm going to walk you home."

"You…don't have to. I think you've done enough." She began to tremble before breaking down in tears. "I'll be fine on my own."

"You don't look fine, and I'm not about to let anyone take advantage of you."

"Except you, right? You want to take advantage of me?" She shivered, but she still removed the jacket and handed it back to him. "Thanks but no thanks."

"My mother taught me to respect women, no matter how stubborn they may be. We're in quite the predicament here; because I will out stubborn you and I have places to be tomorrow." He held out the jacket again. "Now, let's go. Obviously you were here for a reason."

"I was looking for you, to say thank you for being so kind to me."

"Well, you've found me. Now let's get you home." He wrapped the jacket around her and sighed. "Stop being so stubborn. I'm not here to take advantage of you, or hurt you, or even try to kiss you. I'm a gentleman and you're a lady. You make the first move – you came to find me. That's enough for one night."

She stifled a giggle. "I guess that's true. I mean, I was going to surprise you at your room, but I guess fate had other plans."

"It usually does. Where do you live, anyway?"

She smiled softly. "West City."

"That's…"

"A train ride away? Yes, it is." A bright smile came across her face. "That's why I leave at eleven, so I can catch the train before it leaves for the night. I was actually kind of hoping I could stay at your place tonight."

He looked around and frowned, thinking of Maes. He couldn't possibly share a bed with him. Then a smirk came to his lips. "I think I have an idea. I'll kick Maes out so he can go spend the night with his beloved, and you can spend the night at the barracks."

"Won't you get in trouble?"

"We do this all the time," Roy smiled. "I mean, I cover for him while he's with Gracia, anyway. No harm done."

Reaching the edge of the barracks, he tapped on the door. Maes was in the corner gushing over a photograph of Gracia. He looked up when he saw the blonde with him. "She's the girl from the-"

"Shut up. Go see Gracia. Be back here by noon tomorrow, or your ass is fried." Roy growled. "I need your bed."

"My bed? Just _share _a bed." Maes suggested.

Roy shoved him towards the door. "Don't act like you don't want to see her. Get out of here."

"Fine! But you owe me one!" Maes shouted belligerently.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be best man at your damn wedding when we come home." He then turned to Riza and held out a hand to show her where the bed was. "I don't dance."

The blonde took the opening and crawled into Maes' bed. He climbed into the one across from her, but he didn't take his eyes off her. She'd long since removed the jacket, but he was still in his full uniform, watching her carefully. "Aren't you hot?" She whispered, not wanting to wake anyone else up.

"Of course I am. But I'm not going to strip naked in front of you."

She smiled just a little. "It's too dark to see anything anyway, I wouldn't mind."

And just like that, she'd ended up in his bed, snuggled close to his body. He'd stayed in a tee shirt and his pants, opting to not get completely naked. But there was some kind of undeniable bond about her that he couldn't deny. Something…intrigued him about her, and it wasn't her confidence. Either way, he had a whole twelve hours to think about it.

* * *

_SEVERELY AU. Trying a different concept. We'll see how it goes depending on the reviews. And yes. I did indeed **watch **a burlesque dancer to learn how to describe the scene. Read and review._


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